245
And it was in that very flat she beheld17 Mr. Squance’s heroism18. It seemed to be morning in her dream, early; it must have been early. She and Squance were at breakfast when what should walk deliberately19 and astoundingly into the room but a lion. Mrs. Squance, never having seen a lion before, took it to be a sheepdog, and she shouted, “Go out, you dirty thing!” waving a threatening hand towards it. But the animal did not go out; it pranced20 up to Mrs. Squance in a genial21 way, seized her admonishing22 hand and playfully tried to bite it off. Really! Mr. Squance had risen to his startled feet shouting “Lion! lion!” and then Mrs. Squance realized that she had to contend with a monster that kept swelling23 bigger and bigger before her very eyes, until it seemed that it would never be able to go out of that door again. It had a tremendous head and mane, with whiskers on its snout as stiff as knitting needles, and claws like tenpenny nails; but its tail was the awfullest thing, long and very flexible, with a bush of hair at the end just like a mop, which it wagged about, smashing all sorts of things.
“Ben,” said Mrs. Squance, “'ave you a pistol?”
“No, I ’ave not,” said Ben.
“Then we’re done,” she had declared. “Oh, no, we ain’t, though! You ’old ’im, Ben, and I’ll go and get a pistol; ’old ’im!”
Ben valiantly24 seized the lion by its mane and tail, but it did not care for such treatment; it began to snarl25 and swish about the room, dragging poor Ben as if he had been just a piece of rabbit pie.
“'Old ’im! ’old ’im!” exhorted26 Mrs. Squance, as246 she popped on her bonnet27 and shawl. “You ’old 'im!”
“All right,” breathed Ben, as she ran off and began the descent of the long narrow staircase. Almost at the bottom she met a piano coming upwards28. It was not a very large piano, but it was large enough to prevent her from descending29 any further. It was resting upon the backs of two men, one in front, whose entirely30 bald, perspiring31, projecting head reminded her of the head of a tortoise, and one who followed him unseen. They crawled on all fours, while the piano was balanced by a man who pulled it in front and another who pushed it from behind.
“Dear me!” exclaimed Mrs. Squance. “I ’ope you won’t be long.”
They made no reply; the piano continued to advance, the bald man swaying his head still more like a tortoise. She began to retire before them, and continued retiring step by step until she became irritated and demanded to know the owner of that piano. The men seemed to be dumb, so she skipped up to the second floor to make enquiries, knocking at the first door with her left hand—the right one still hurting her very much. It was exasperating32. Someone had just painted and varnished33 the doors, and she was compelled to tap very lightly instead of giving the big bang the occasion required. Consequently no one heard her, while her hand became covered with a glutinous34 evil liquid. She ran up to the third floor. Here the doors were all right, but although she set up a vigorous cannonade again no one heard her, at least, no one replied except some247 gruff voice that kept repeating “Gone, no address! Gone, no address!” She opened the doors, but there seemed to be no one about, although each room had every appearance of recent occupation: fires alight, breakfast things recently used, and in the bedrooms the disordered beds. She was now extremely annoyed. She opened all the doors quickly until she came to the last room, which was occupied by the old clergyman who kept ducks there and fed them on macaroni cheese. It was just as she feared; the ducks were waiting, they flocked quacking35 upon the passage and stairs before she could prevent them.
“I’m sure,” screamed Mrs. Squance, in her dreadful rage, “it’s that lion responsible for all this!”
She wasted no more time upon the matter. She rapidly descended36 the stairs again, treading upon innumerable indignant ducks, until she came to the piano. Here she said not a word, but, brushing the leading man aside, placed her foot roughly upon the slippery head of the first crawling man and scrambled37 over the top of the instrument, jumping thence upon the back part of the hindmost man, who turned his feet comically inwards, and wore round his loins a belt as large as the belly-band of a waggon38 horse.
She proceeded breathlessly until she came to the last flight, where, behold39! the stairs had all been smashed in by those awkward pianists, and she stood on the dreadful verge40 of a drop into a cellar full of darkness and disgusting smells. But she was able to leap upon the banister-rail which was intact, and slide splendidly to the ground floor. An unusual sight awaited her. Mrs. Squance did not remember248 ever to have seen such a thing before, but there in the hall a marvellous eustacia tree was growing out of the floor. She was not surprised at the presence of a tree in that unwonted situation. She had not noticed it before, but it did not seem out of place. Why shouldn’t trees grow where they liked? They always did. Mrs. Squance invariably took life as she found it, even in dreams. While she was surveying the beautiful proportions of the eustacia tree, the richness of its leaves, and its fine aroma41 a small bird, without warning or apology, alighted upon her right hand—which she carried against her chest as if it were in a sling42, though it wasn’t—and laid an egg on it. It was so annoying, she did not know what to do with it; she was afraid of smashing it. She rushed from the building, and entered the butcher’s shop a few doors away. The shop was crowded with customers, and the butcher perspired43 and joked with geniality44, as is the immemorial custom with butchers. His boy, a mere45 tot of five or six years of age, observed to Mrs. Squance that it was “a lovely day, ma’am,” and she replied that it was splendid. So it was. People were buying the most extraordinarily46 fleshly fare, the smelt47 of an ox, a rib48 of suet, a fillet of liver, and one little girl purchased nineteen lambs’ tongues, which she took away secretly in a portmanteau.
“Now Mrs. Squance, what can I do for you?” enquired49 the butcher. Without comment she handed him the egg of the bird. He cast it into the till as if it were a crown piece. “And the next thing, ma’am?”
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“'Ave you got such a thing as a pistol, Mr. Verryspice?”
Mr. Verryspice had, he had got two, and drawing them from the belt wherefrom dangled50 his sharpener, he laid two remarkable51 pieces of ordnance52 before her. In her renewed agitation53 she would have snatched up one of the pistols, but Mr. Verryspice prevented her.
“No, no, ma’am, I shall have to get permission for you to use it first.”
“Yes?” said the butcher.
“ ... for my husband.”
“I see,” he replied sympathetically. “Well, come along then and I’ll get an interim55 permission at once.” Seizing a tall silk hat from its hook and placing it firmly upon his head he led her from his establishment.
“Singular that the trams are all so full this morning,” commented Mrs. Squance as they awaited a conveyance56.
“Most unusual, ma’am,” replied Mr. Verryspice. But at last they persuaded a bathchair man to give them a lift to their destination, where they arrived a little indecorously perhaps, for the top-hatted butcher was sitting as unconcernedly and as upright as a wax figure upon Mrs. Squance’s knees. The office they sought lay somewhere in a vast cavernous building full of stairs and corridors, long, exhausting, hollow corridors like the Underground railway, and on every floor and turning were signposts of the turnpike variety with directions:
“To the Bedel of St. Thomas’s Basket, 3 miles.”
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“Registrar of Numismatics and Obligations, 2-1/4.”
Along one of these passages they plunged57, and after some aggravating58 hindrances59, including a demand from a humpty-backed clerk for a packet of No. 19 egg-eyed sharps, and five pennyworth of cachous which she found in her bosom60, the permission was secured, and the butcher thereupon handed the weapon to Mrs. Squance.
“What did you say you wanted it for?” he asked.
Mrs. Squance’s gratitude61 was great, but her indignation was deep and disdained62 reply. She seized the pistol and began to run home. Rather a stout63 lady, too, and the exercise embarrassed her. Her hair fetched loose, her stockings slipped down, and her strange, hurrying figure, brandishing64 a pistol, soon attracted the notice of policemen and a certain young greengrocer with a tray of onions, who trotted65 in her wake until she threatened them all with the firearm.
Breathlessly at last she mounted the tremendous staircase. Happily in the interval66 the damage had been repaired, the tree chopped down, piano delivered, and ducks recaptured. She reached her rooms only in time to hear a great crash of glass from within. Old Ben was strutting67 about with a triumphant air.
“I done ’im—I done ’im,” he called. “You can come in now; I’ve just chucked ’im through the window!” And sure enough he had. The sash looked as if it had been blown out by a cannon-ball. Mrs. Squance peered out, and there, far down at the front door, curled up as if asleep, lay the lion. At that moment the milkman arrived, with that dissonant68 clatter69 peculiar70 to milkmen. He dashed down his251 cans close by the nose of the lion, which apparently71 he had not seen. The scared animal leaped up in its terror, and darting72 down an alley73 was seen no more.
So far this narrative74, devoid75 as it is of moral grandeur76 and literary grace, has subjected the reader’s comprehension to no scientific rigours; but he who reads on will discern its cunning import—a psychological outcome with the profoundest implications. Listen. Mrs. Squance awoke that morning in her own hard-looking little house of one floor, with the hard-looking shop, startled to find the window of their room actually smashed, and inexplicable77 pains in her right hand. She related these circumstances in after years with so many symptoms of truth and propriety78 that she herself at last vividly79 believed in the figure of old Ben as a lion-slayer. “Saved my life when I was ’tacked by a lion!” she would say to her awed80 grandchildren, and she would proceed to regale81 them with a narration82 which, I regret to say, had only the remotest likeness83 to the foregoing story.
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1 undertaking | |
n.保证,许诺,事业 | |
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2 ornamental | |
adj.装饰的;作装饰用的;n.装饰品;观赏植物 | |
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3 meek | |
adj.温顺的,逆来顺受的 | |
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4 coffin | |
n.棺材,灵柩 | |
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5 sundry | |
adj.各式各样的,种种的 | |
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6 shovels | |
n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 );锹;推土机、挖土机等的)铲;铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 );锹;推土机、挖土机等的)铲;铲形部份 | |
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7 triumphant | |
adj.胜利的,成功的;狂欢的,喜悦的 | |
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8 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
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9 expatiate | |
v.细说,详述 | |
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10 sitting-room | |
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室 | |
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11 browse | |
vi.随意翻阅,浏览;(牛、羊等)吃草 | |
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12 vista | |
n.远景,深景,展望,回想 | |
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13 scholastic | |
adj.学校的,学院的,学术上的 | |
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14 lather | |
n.(肥皂水的)泡沫,激动 | |
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15 granite | |
adj.花岗岩,花岗石 | |
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16 depot | |
n.仓库,储藏处;公共汽车站;火车站 | |
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17 beheld | |
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟 | |
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18 heroism | |
n.大无畏精神,英勇 | |
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19 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
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20 pranced | |
v.(马)腾跃( prance的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21 genial | |
adj.亲切的,和蔼的,愉快的,脾气好的 | |
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22 admonishing | |
v.劝告( admonish的现在分词 );训诫;(温和地)责备;轻责 | |
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23 swelling | |
n.肿胀 | |
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24 valiantly | |
adv.勇敢地,英勇地;雄赳赳 | |
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25 snarl | |
v.吼叫,怒骂,纠缠,混乱;n.混乱,缠结,咆哮 | |
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26 exhorted | |
v.劝告,劝说( exhort的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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27 bonnet | |
n.无边女帽;童帽 | |
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28 upwards | |
adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
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29 descending | |
n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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30 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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31 perspiring | |
v.出汗,流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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32 exasperating | |
adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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33 varnished | |
浸渍过的,涂漆的 | |
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34 glutinous | |
adj.粘的,胶状的 | |
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35 quacking | |
v.(鸭子)发出嘎嘎声( quack的现在分词 ) | |
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36 descended | |
a.为...后裔的,出身于...的 | |
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37 scrambled | |
v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 );攀登;争夺;(军事飞机)紧急起飞 | |
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38 waggon | |
n.运货马车,运货车;敞篷车箱 | |
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39 behold | |
v.看,注视,看到 | |
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40 verge | |
n.边,边缘;v.接近,濒临 | |
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41 aroma | |
n.香气,芬芳,芳香 | |
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42 sling | |
vt.扔;悬挂;n.挂带;吊索,吊兜;弹弓 | |
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43 perspired | |
v.出汗,流汗( perspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44 geniality | |
n.和蔼,诚恳;愉快 | |
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45 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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46 extraordinarily | |
adv.格外地;极端地 | |
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47 smelt | |
v.熔解,熔炼;n.银白鱼,胡瓜鱼 | |
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48 rib | |
n.肋骨,肋状物 | |
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49 enquired | |
打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 ); 询问; 问问题; 查问 | |
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50 dangled | |
悬吊着( dangle的过去式和过去分词 ); 摆动不定; 用某事物诱惑…; 吊胃口 | |
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51 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
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52 ordnance | |
n.大炮,军械 | |
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53 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
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54 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
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55 interim | |
adj.暂时的,临时的;n.间歇,过渡期间 | |
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56 conveyance | |
n.(不动产等的)转让,让与;转让证书;传送;运送;表达;(正)运输工具 | |
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57 plunged | |
v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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58 aggravating | |
adj.恼人的,讨厌的 | |
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59 hindrances | |
阻碍者( hindrance的名词复数 ); 障碍物; 受到妨碍的状态 | |
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60 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
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61 gratitude | |
adj.感激,感谢 | |
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62 disdained | |
鄙视( disdain的过去式和过去分词 ); 不屑于做,不愿意做 | |
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64 brandishing | |
v.挥舞( brandish的现在分词 );炫耀 | |
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65 trotted | |
小跑,急走( trot的过去分词 ); 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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66 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
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67 strutting | |
加固,支撑物 | |
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68 dissonant | |
adj.不和谐的;不悦耳的 | |
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69 clatter | |
v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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70 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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71 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
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72 darting | |
v.投掷,投射( dart的现在分词 );向前冲,飞奔 | |
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73 alley | |
n.小巷,胡同;小径,小路 | |
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74 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
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75 devoid | |
adj.全无的,缺乏的 | |
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76 grandeur | |
n.伟大,崇高,宏伟,庄严,豪华 | |
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77 inexplicable | |
adj.无法解释的,难理解的 | |
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78 propriety | |
n.正当行为;正当;适当 | |
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79 vividly | |
adv.清楚地,鲜明地,生动地 | |
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80 awed | |
adj.充满敬畏的,表示敬畏的v.使敬畏,使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81 regale | |
v.取悦,款待 | |
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82 narration | |
n.讲述,叙述;故事;记叙体 | |
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83 likeness | |
n.相像,相似(之处) | |
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